


Not Alone

by darthmelyanna, miera



Series: stargate_ren [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Renaissance, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-23
Updated: 2006-09-23
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:41:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darthmelyanna/pseuds/darthmelyanna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: Dark times settle over the country of Atalan.





	Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to melyanna's story, "Ascension of the Queen." Many, many thanks to her and miera_c for picking this ficlet apart and making it ten times better than what it originally was. By angelqueen04

Outside the palace of Atlantis, the people of the village seemed to go about their daily business with ease. Men prepared to set the fields for spring planting. Women worked in their gardens and homes and taught their younger children their lessons, just as they had done day after day, year after year. However, on this particular day, there was a certain amount of tension. Every so often, the people of the village would look off toward the palace, their hearts growing heavier as the hours passed.

Within the castle, the atmosphere was even more desolate. The servants, like the people outside, went about their daily work, but all of their thoughts were centered upon the royal family's private wing, where their sovereign lord was passing his final days.

"My lords," Edmund, King of Atalan, said softly to the men gathered around his bed. His green eyes stared out of a pale, flushed face and up at the ceiling. "I desire to make my will known to you now, for I fear my strength shall soon fail."

George straightened in the chair he sat in beside the bed. "Your Majesty," he began.

The king only smiled faintly at him and cut him off, shaking his head. "Nay, Lord George, I beg of you not to patronize me with false assurances. I am dying. I have felt this moment bearing down upon me ever since I received these wounds." He paused, breathing deeply. "I have seen too much of death to fear it, but I do fear for both Atalan and my family. My wife grows weaker by the day, despite all the physicians do to help her and our child. And my daughter..." The King closed his eyes, his expression pained.

"Uncle?" Lord Daniel spoke up from the opposite side of the bed, taking the older man's hand in his. The young man's alarm was palpable to everyone.

Edmund squeezed Daniel's hand. "I am still here, nephew," he breathed. "I fear for Elizabeth. She will be Queen when I am gone, but she is a child. A child cannot rule a nation, cannot fight in a war. A child cannot protect herself from threats." He looked around, catching all of their eyes. "You, all of you, are her only hope to survive. I -"

He was cut off by a fierce bout of coughing, which caused him to hunch forward, his agonized expression visible to them all. Lord George and Daniel both moved forward, bracing the King. Slowly, after some seconds, he relaxed back against the pillows, his skin ashen.

"Not much time," he murmured, more to himself than to anyone else present. He looked around once more to each of them. "I would ask you all to fulfill a task for me, after I am gone."

Daniel agreed immediately, obviously determined to make his uncle's passing easier in any way he could. "Of course," he said. "You have only to ask, and it shall be done."

Lord George and the other three men present, Lord Jonathan of Neill, Sir Marshall Sumner, the head of the king's royal guard, and Sir Jacob Carter, all nodded their assent. Satisfied, Edmund spoke again.

"Lord George, you and I have known each other many long years. You have had my trust through all of that time. Now, I have decreed within my last will and testament that you are to serve as Elizabeth's guardian and protector until such time she is to come of age and take the throne." The king glanced past him to Jacob and Jack. "I would have you both assist him however you are able. I fear this task shall not be an easy one."

Lord George stared at him. Indeed, he and Edmund had known one another since their youth. George had always done his best to serve him well, and was proud to call him friend and be called so in return. Now he was to be entrusted with the care and upbringing of his only surviving child. 

"I also ask you to look after the queen and our other child," the king beseeched. The man looked grieved, but he forced himself to add, "Should they survive, that is."

The three men agreed, and then the king turned to Sir Marshall. "You have also served me well, all these long years, my friend," he told him quietly. "Now, I ask you to serve my daughter in the same capacity. Guard her, for I fear there are many who will be out to do her great harm."

The Captain of the King's Guard bowed low to his lord. "It shall be done, your Majesty," the stoic man replied simply.

Edmund nodded to him, and then turned to look at Daniel. His eyes filled with affection. "You have been as close to me as any son could have been," he said quietly. "You are well versed in the ways of government, something both your aunt and cousin will be quite in need of. I have made it known that I wish you to stand beside Margaret when she takes up the regency. Also, teach Elizabeth, Daniel. Teach her to live and rule well." He paused to breathe, which only served to remind all those present that his breathing was becoming much more labored. "Forgive me. I know these are no small things I ask of you, but the five of you are the only ones I am certain I can trust with the fate of Atalan and Elizabeth."

George could tell that Daniel was only barely holding back tears. He watched the younger man grasp his uncle's hand more tightly. "I will do this, Uncle," he whispered. "I will help hold Atalan until Elizabeth is ready. And she will be ready one day, I swear this."

Edmund held Daniel's gaze, grasping his hand in return. Then, slowly, that clear green gaze grew vacant and his grip slack. Throughout the room, heads were bowed. George swallowed his own grief and leaned forward, carefully palming his ruler's eyes shut.

"The king is dead," he said softly. "Long live the queen."

 

* * *

 

The news of the king's death was not announced to the palace of Atlantis by the shouts and wailings that would be expected on such an occasion. Though his passing had long been anticipated, the news was being spread quietly. Sir Jacob and Lord Daniel had gone to inform the college of lords, while Lord Jonathan had grimly volunteered for the task of informing the king's widow, Margaret of Langford, who was bedridden as she struggled to carry her latest child to term. It was paramount she be made aware that she now stood as not just as the mother of King Edmund's children, but also as her eldest child's regent and steward.

George found himself moving towards the nursery, where Princess Elizabeth was kept under close guard along with her two new companions, Lady Laura and Lady Katherine. Jacob had also told him that it was likely his daughter, Lady Samantha, was also present, as the princess had taken a liking to the older girl and often requested her company.

When he arrived at the wing of the palace where the nursery was situated, George was pleased to see that Sir Marshall had moved quickly. The King's Guard had bolstered the smaller group of soldiers that had already been in place. The _Queen's_ Guard, he reminded himself sternly. It was the Queen's Guard now, even if the princess was not yet officially the queen and would not be so for another ten years.

The two guards, Masters Griff and Bates, if he recalled correctly, nodded shortly to him and allowed him to pass into the nursery wing. Almost immediately, George's ears were beset by the sounds of girlish laughter and he could almost feel his spirits lift. This area was yet untouched by the sorrow falling over the rest of the palace.

He came to a halt just outside the door of the main room of the nursery, watching the scene unfold inside. George's eyes found the princess immediately, sitting on the floor with Laura and Samantha, the three of them engrossed in the game they had spread out in front of them. The fourth of the group, Kate, stood nearby, managing to appear both anxious and wistful. George could not help but smile slightly. He was acquainted with the young girl's mother, Lady Maria, and had no doubt that the woman had lectured her daughter extensively on how to behave when she was in the presence of the princess. He did not think that sitting so informally on the floor and playing a game was something that Lady Maria considered proper behavior for young girls.

Another shriek brought him out of his thoughts. Apparently, the princess had scored a point and young Laura had tugged on her brown curls in revenge. Elizabeth did not appear offended, however, and only squealed and attempted to return the gesture, launching herself at her companion. Samantha leaned back and shook her head, laughing, while Kate continued to look on, somewhat scandalized.

It was tempting to leave them as they were, to let them play and simply be children without the cares of the world to burden them. He sighed quietly, and then forced himself to step forward, clearing his throat to alert them of his presence. This was a duty that he was bound to discharge, no matter how reluctant he felt.

The reaction was immediate. The princess immediately pulled away from Laura and stood up, as did the other two girls. Laura and Kate quickly took up positions just behind Elizabeth, as their governess had most certainly instructed them to do whenever there was a visitor. Samantha also stepped aside, allowing Elizabeth a full view of who had come to see her.

George bowed to them. "Your Highness," he murmured softly, and then nodded his head to the others. "Ladies."

"Lord George," the princess greeted him with a bright smile, her green eyes full of joy. "It is most pleasing to see you this beautiful day."

"Indeed, your Highness," he replied fondly, but he could feel his facial features slipping into a solemn mask, something the young girl before him did not miss.

She looked up at him, a look of alarm spreading across her round little face. "Is something amiss, Lord George? Is Mama well?"

"Yes, she is well," he assured her, "but I fear I still bring you most distressing news..."

 

* * *

 

The funeral was held over a week later, beneath a dark, cloudy sky. Though grief was prevalent everywhere, George was certain it was more genuine in some people than in others.

He stood beside Princess Elizabeth, who was covered head to toe in black, complete with a thin black veil over her pale face. The girl had grown quiet ever since he had imparted the news of her beloved father's death, though she had insisted that she be present to see her father off to his final rest in her mother's place.

The Marquis of Hammond sighed inwardly. The princess' mother had not taken the news of her husband's death well, no matter that it had been expected for some time now. She grew weaker and weaker and the physicians could only shake their heads. They had done all they could for her. All that was left for any of them to do was to pray that she would find the strength to survive, if not for her own sake, then for the sake of her children and of Atalan.

Sir Marshall stood near Lord George and the princess, his gaze fixed determinedly on his new charge. The Captain of the Guard took his new duty seriously and now was never far from the princess' side. He was dressed in his finest, but he was also armed with a sword at his side, and no doubt several other weapons concealed upon his person. Grief was etched into his face as well, but he took refuge in duty.

The college of lords was also gathered, the entire body. George resisted the urge to glare at them and label them all a pack of fools. They had confirmed King Edmund's wish that Lord George serve as the princess' guardian until she came of age. Despite this good news, there was still a great deal of unrest throughout the college. With the Queen Mother's failing health, there was no one to direct and guide the government. A man with extensive holdings in the eastern areas of Atalan, Lord Robert Kinsey, was causing problems. Though Daniel had the authority to work on behalf of his aunt, Kinsey was stirring up many lords against him, using Daniel's travels outside of Atalan to intimate that his loyalties were suspect. The well-oiled machine that was the country's government was coming to a screeching halt.

This complication made their situation much more difficult. Lord Daniel was seething at the deliberate snubs delivered to him, though George was fairly certain that Daniel would eventually put the insults out of his mind and focus upon his cousin. Though Kinsey was able to manipulate the majority of the college, he would find himself hard pressed to have any true hand in Elizabeth's upbringing and education. With Sir Jacob, a highly respected man in every circle of society, Lord Jonathan, the head of the military and Atalan's greatest living hero, Lord Daniel, Sir Marshall, and himself all forming a barrier around her, the princess would be as protected as possible from Kinsey's plots.

Not that Kinsey appeared to be taking all that much interest in Elizabeth, George also noted as he gazed discreetly in the direction of the lord. The man was the very image of propriety and respect for the moment, but George doubted that such an appearance would last for long. Robert Kinsey was the sort of man who spent his life trying to bring his ambitions to fruit, and only grew to crave more if he achieved them. He was most likely preparing his next phase of attack against Queen Margaret's faltering administration, just waiting for the moment it was socially acceptable to do so.

It was this lack of interest, George deemed, that might just keep the princess safe. What need did Kinsey have to concern himself with an eight-year-old child whose five younger siblings had not lived beyond their fifth birthdays and whose mother would likely not live out this next birth? The likelihood of Elizabeth surviving her childhood was considered slim by most. Still, George was determined to see that she not only survived, but thrived as well. And he would use the dismal expectations of others to his advantage.

The priests began intoning the final prayers over the king's sarcophagus, interrupting George's thoughts. He quickly bowed his head, repeating the words along with the rest of those present. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the clasped hands of the princess were shaking slightly. His heart clenched as he watched her battle to keep control of herself until she could retire from the public's view.

Atalan was facing difficult and tumultuous times, George reflected as he murmured the last benediction for his king's soul, but none would suffer more than the child upon whom the hopes of the entire realm rested.

 

* * *

 

Several days later, George found himself facing the high point of another crisis. The royal family's personal physician, Doctor Warner, had been increasingly resigned in his frequent reports on the failing health of the Queen Mother, which was the purpose of this particular visit.

"My colleagues and I have done everything possible that is in our power to do, my lord," the middle-aged man said, his expression full of helplessness and frustration. "Her Majesty's strength is fast depleting." He hesitated for a moment, and then continued. "I fear it is a certainty that she will not survive the birth of her child. Indeed, I am unsure she will even survive until the time comes. There are... There are methods in which the labor could be induced early, but with such procedures, there are risks to both mother and child."

George sighed wearily. The tension that surrounded the king's death had yet to fade throughout the palace. He found himself providing for the care of a young girl whose response to pain was to withdraw deep inside herself, hiding her true feelings and refusing to speak beyond pleasantries. The princess visited her mother daily as she had always done in the past, but from what he had seen and heard from Lord Daniel, their visits were punctuated by uncomfortable silences. The Queen Mother clearly had little more to give to either of her children.

"You must do has you think best, Doctor," George said at last. "I believe you have stated that the child should arrive within the next few weeks?" At the other man's confirmation, he continued, "Then I would recommend that you watch her Majesty closely. If you feel that her ill health is truly a danger to the child, then you must proceed as you deem fit."

Such grievous circumstances had little hope for a miraculous, happy ending. Within three weeks, Margaret of Langford died giving birth to another daughter. The child only lived two days, long enough for her to be confirmed by the college of lords and the priests as Princess Matilda and little else. Mother and daughter were buried with all ceremony alongside the King and the other royal children that had not survived.

The college of lords, which had been slow in its workings since the death of King Edmund, had galvanized into action. Though Lord Daniel was the natural choice to replace Queen Margaret as regent and had been the preferred candidate of the late king, Lord Kinsey had garnered enough support to overrule such a move. Within days of the Queen Mother's death, the college voted Robert Kinsey to the position of regent, a place he would hold until Princess Elizabeth came of age.

This had been a most alarming set back for him and his colleagues. Though George could effectively bar him from taking control of Elizabeth, Kinsey could make their lives much more difficult and fraught with peril. Jacob had many contacts throughout Atlantis and the rest of the country, and if their words could be trusted, then Robert Kinsey was not a man to be underestimated. They were going to be faced with many difficulties in the coming years.

As the dust began to settle, George had hoped that perhaps the feeling of stagnancy and oppression would leave the palace. Instead, it lingered and seemed to fester. Kinsey quickly began to make his presence known in all areas of the government. He raised the taxes on all citizens, and simultaneously cut off much needed monies to various projects such as the repairs of Atalan's badly damaged navy, something Jack bitterly resented.

Princess Elizabeth walked about as though completely numb. She devoted little attention to her schoolwork or to her other lessons. Her gaze often looked out the windows and towards the royal tombs. Her alarming behavior continued to plague George's thoughts until, one day, he entered her private rooms, intent on speaking with her on the matter. He did not wish to be overly harsh with her, as her suffering was clear to all who looked upon her, but something clearly had to be done.

He came upon Laura and Kate, both standing outside one of the small sitting rooms, both appearing at a loss. He quietly asked them why they were not with their mistress.

Laura, her normally mischievous spirit quelled, looked up at him solemnly. "Her Highness is talking with Lord Daniel. She ordered us to leave."

"She has never given us such an order before," Kate added, her expression distressed.

George looked towards the door to the sitting room, which had been left ajar. Moving quietly, he opened it slightly and slipped inside. He was greatly surprised at what he saw.

From all that he knew, he did not believe the princess had permitted herself to grieve over the loss of both her parents in such a short time. Aside from the brief moment he had observed at the king's funeral, George knew of no other time in which she had lost her composure. 

It also surprised him that Daniel was visiting his cousin. For the past several days, the younger man had remained detached from everyone, attempting to cool his ire over the loss of the regency to Kinsey. He had wanted to protect Elizabeth from knowing the reason for his anger, so he had kept himself away from her. Now, he seemed to have abandoned that plan.

For when George entered the sitting room, he found the young princess sobbing in her cousin's arms.

"They're all gone, Daniel," George distinctly heard her say, her voice quivering. "Mama... Papa..."

"I know, dearest," Daniel whispered back, stroking her hair soothingly. "I know. But there are still many here amongst the living who love you and do not wish to see you waste away." The Duke of Langford paused, looking up. His gaze betrayed no surprise when it met George's and he added, murmuring, "Grieve, Elizabeth, but remember that there are many here who still love you."

The Princess and Queen-elect of Atalan shuddered in her cousin's embrace as she continued to weep and suddenly, George felt that he had a far better understanding of what lay before him. King Edmund had not just requested that he look after his daughter's physical well-being, but her emotional health as well. He found himself in the position of raising another child, only this time he would not be doing so with his beloved wife to aid him, but rather Daniel, Sir Jacob, and Jack. This was the path before them all, and the fate of both the princess and the realm depended on their success.

They would not, could not, fail her.

 _Indeed_ , George thought, _we are your family now, Highness. You shall not want for love anymore than you would have if your parents had lived. You will know love. You are not alone._


End file.
